


The Black Wolf of Beacon Hills

by whenshewrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Werewolf Acquisition, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, Canon-Typical Violence, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Feral Derek Hale, Hurt Derek Hale, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Werewolf Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, Warning: Kate Argent, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: After an unfortunate incident at the Hale house, Stiles has decided the rumors are wrong. The old burned Hale house isn't haunted by ghosts.It's haunted by a starving black wolf.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 257
Kudos: 726





	1. Chapter 1

Going out into the woods at night probably wasn’t Stiles’s best idea. But he was dared to, dammit, and Stiles wasn’t a coward. Not like Jackson the jackass thought he was; Stiles was going to prove him wrong.

That involved going to the old Hale house. 

The one everyone claimed was haunted and people refused to step foot in, even during the day. But all Stiles had to do was get a piece of burnt wood from the porch or something, and bring it back to school tomorrow. He could do this. He wasn’t going to get eaten alive or anything.

Or haunted by ghosts. Stiles really hoped he wasn’t going to get haunted by ghosts.

Holding his flashlight tightly, Stiles stepped out of his jeep and glanced nervously around. The woods stood dark and silent underneath the moonlight. He didn’t see any ghosts or ghouls. Nothing that would rip his spine out or turn him into that chick from The Ring. 

The Hale house was terrifying, though. Stiles shone his flashlight at it and just stood there for a long moment, trying to gather up the courage to make his feet move. Suddenly, he was rethinking this whole dare. Jackson could suck it.

But then Stiles pictured his stupid jackass face and the stupid jackass grin he’d wear, and forced himself forward. Stiles wasn’t a little kid anymore. He wasn't scared of a stupid haunted house.

The porch steps creaked underneath his weight. 

“Right,” Stiles said, shining the light around. “One piece of burned wood. That shouldn’t be too difficult, right?”

He grabbed the edge of the nearest doorway and tried to yank it off. But his only reward was a splinter driving deep into his thumb. Stiles cursed, sticking the digit in his mouth, and moved further into the house, stepping toward the stairs. They were falling apart too.

He should’ve made Scott come with him. But Scott was with Allison and that meant no Stiles. Even if he was risking his life by entering the old haunted Hale house.

Stiles shuddered. “Not haunted,” he tried to remind himself. The creaking of the blackened walls around him wasn’t very reassuring.

Stiles set down his flashlight to grab a corner of one of the steps and pulled. This one broke off without much resistance and Stiles grinned at it, admiring the chunk of burnt wood. 

_ Take that, Jackson. _

Suddenly, Stiles heard a growl.

He dropped the piece of wood with a yelp, spinning around. Standing in the doorway of the house was a— a dog. It was a dog. A giant, looming, covered in black fur with dark amber eyes, dog.

It looked a lot like a wolf.

But there were no wolves in California. Right?

Stiles raised his hands and stepped back. Except, he forgot about the stairs and his heel caught on the edge of the first one, sending him toppling over. Stiles crashed to the floor with a squawk and pain exploded through his body as something— hopefully the floor— cracked.

The dog growled lower and stalked forward, claws clicking on the floor. Stiles scrambled back, breaths catching in his throat.

“Good— good dog. Oh my god, please don’t eat me.”

Amber eyes roamed over him and Stiles noticed for the first time how thin the dog was. He could see bones through the fur— meaning it was probably hungry. Probably hungry enough to try snacking on an innocent teenage boy. Stiles scrambled back until he rammed against a wall and winced as the dog moved closer, throwing up his hands.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, the words tumbling over each other. “You don’t want to eat me. I’d taste terrible! Plus, I’m nothing but skin and bones. You wouldn’t even get a solid meal off of this!”

The dog— Stiles really didn’t think it was a dog— paused in front of him. The thing was much bigger up close and its fur was all clumped together. Stiles thought he remembered reading something about how wolf paws were much bigger than dog ones, and how they were more arched. The clawed paws only inches away from his leg certainly looked bigger than the average dog’s and Stiles didn’t even want to try inspecting whether or not they were arched.

“Good… wolfy,” Stiles said, voice barely a squeak. “I eat a lot of spicy food, so I can guarantee I wouldn’t taste great. In fact, I’d probably poison you. Cause I eat a lot of chocolate too. Like, an unhealthy amount of chocolate.”

The wolf huffed. Stiles could’ve sworn it sounded  _ amused. _

He yelped as a cold nose prodded his ankle. Somehow, Stiles had managed to slice the skin open just above his sock, and he was pretty sure the smell of blood wasn’t helping. A startled cry caught in his throat when a warm tongue swiped over the cut. 

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and realized he probably had about three seconds before sharp teeth sunk into his leg. Oh god, his dad was going to find him out here. Eaten alive by a starving wolf because Jackson was a jackass and Stiles was an idiot.

Except, the wolf never showed teeth. Stiles blinked to see the blood gone from his leg and the wolf looking at him with scarily intelligent eyes.

“You’re not going to eat me?” Stiles said nervously. He could’ve sworn those amber eyes rolled.

Stiles still couldn’t help wincing as the wolf moved closer, as if it was surveying him. He drew his hands into his chest as the wolf sniffed them and then touched his nose against Stiles’s neck. That made him yelp again; mostly because the touch was  _ cold _ . 

Then the wolf pulled away and huffed. Stiles blinked as it turned away, loping back toward the house doorway. 

For a moment, he just sat there.

Stiles couldn’t believe he was alive. Not just alive, but unharmed, despite the fact he would’ve made an excellent— if not bony— meal for the wolf. It was obvious the thing was starving.

Shakily, Stiles pushed himself to his feet. His heart thudded against his chest.

His flashlight had gone out when he’d dropped it and Stiles couldn’t find the piece of wood again. But he didn’t care this time, grabbing his broken flashlight and stumbling back toward the house doorway. He searched the forest, but didn’t see the wolf again.

Wolf, dog, whatever it was. Stiles didn’t think he should’ve been walking out of here alive.

He didn’t relax until he was back in his jeep, locking the doors firmly. The night was so dark, he could barely see out his window. But before Stiles started the car, a distant howl pierced the air. Stiles froze, one hand on the ignition, and listened to the sound.

It sounded lonely. It sounded sad.

It sounded like a wolf.

Stiles started his car and threw it into reverse, decided the rumors were wrong. The Hale house wasn’t haunted by ghosts.

It was haunted by a starving black wolf.

* * *

Stiles really should’ve expected Jackson the jackass to be a jackass the next day. He hadn’t paid the dare a second thought when he’d gotten home, rushing upstairs to research wolves in California instead.

Which… didn’t uncover much. Wolves weren’t supposed to be in California. They hadn’t been for years. But Stiles knew what he’d seen.

Scott didn’t believe him.

“Dude,” Scott said, looking dubious. Allison was at his side as they sat at the lunch table, not looking too sure either. “I don’t think California has wolves. I mean… are you sure it wasn’t just a big dog? Or maybe you hit your head. Really hard.”

“I know what I saw,” Stiles insisted. “The thing had giant paws and unless someone has been spiking the dog food around here with steroids, it was a wolf. No dog gets that big.”

“I dunno,” Scott said. “It didn’t like, attack you?”

“I thought it was going to,” Stiles muttered, poking at his food. “I could count the thing’s ribs, dude. Literally.”

“Then big dog or not, it probably won’t be wandering around the preserve much longer,” Scott said with a shrug. “Maybe you should tell your dad, though. So he can warn hikers.”

The thing was, Stiles had that exact thought last night. He’d nearly spilled the entire encounter to his dad when he’d come home from his shift, but had stopped himself at the last minute. Stiles didn’t know why, exactly, but the words just wouldn’t come. So he’d just smiled and nodded as his dad complained about work and made sure he ate all his vegetables before going to bed.

“Whatever it was,” Allison said, smiling. She reached across the table and took Stiles’s hand, squeezing. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Stiles couldn’t help smiling back; Allison’s attitude was infectious. As much as he might complain about Scott’s lack of best-friendship since they’d started dating, he wouldn’t have traded Allison for anyone else. If Scott was going to ditch Stiles for anyone, at least it was Allison.

“Hey, Stilinski!” a voice shouted across the cafeteria and Stiles grimaced into his food, not looking over. Scott gave him a sympathetic look.

“I think Jackson wants your attention.”

“I think Jackson can suck it.”

“Stilinski!” 

Stiles clenched his jaw and turned around to see Jackson smirking at him, middle finger raising in the air. Throwing up his own, Stiles rolled his eyes and faced back forward. “I swear to god, sometimes it’s like he’s in middle school again. Remind me, Scotty, why do I still acknowledge that asshole?”

“I really don’t have an answer to that, dude.”

“Me neither,” Stiles said, glaring at his food. Suddenly, a lot less hungry, he pushed it away. His mind wandered back to the woods and the wolf on its own accord, remembering how thin the thing had been. What did wolves eat, if not humans? Like… bunny rabbits? Squirrels? Deer?

“We only have to survive one more year, dude,” Scott said, fingers intertwining with Allison’s. She gave him a small smile and Stiles huffed.

Scott had plans for when they graduated; he and Allison would be sticking around and attending Beacon Hills Community College. The last thing Stiles wanted to do was stay in Beacon Hills, but he still had no plans for when he graduated in a few months. All he knew was that he wanted to get out.

The only reason he’d stay was for his dad. But the Sheriff, supportive until the end, told Stiles that under circumstances was he allowed to stay in Beacon Hills. If he left for a year and hated it, he could come back. But he was getting out there for at least one.

Stiles didn’t want to think about that. He wasn’t ready to start adulting.

The rest of the school day passed quickly. Stiles found himself zoning out more than he was paying attention and by the time he was driving home, there was only one thought on his mind.

Going back into the woods. 

Because Stiles was an idiot with no self-preservation skills and if he was being honest, he wanted to see the wolf again. He wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t crazy and he hadn’t imagined everything that had happened yesterday. 

He really had seen a wolf. And for some reason, it hadn’t eaten him.

Stiles spent about ten minutes searching through their freezer. In the end, he decided on a package of steaks that he was never going to let his dad eat anyway, stuffing them into his backpack and stumbling back out the door. Because… well, Stiles didn’t really have a reason to be bringing a package of raw meat.

Other than the fact he was kind of an idiot. And feeding stray wolves was such a good idea in his book.

Stiles wasn’t sure if the Hale house had to do with anything, but that’s where he parked. A sweeping glance around proved that there were no giant black wolves in sight and suddenly, Stiles felt stupid, wandering toward the house.

“Uh, here, wolfy, wolfy, wolfy?”

That was stupid. He felt stupid. Stiles grimaced and paused on the first step, not wanting to go inside again. His ankle still hurt from where he’d sliced it open and he’d had an array of bruises on his back from where he’d fallen.

The Hale house wasn’t scary but apparently, it was dangerous. In the daylight, the entire thing looked like it was three seconds from collapsing in on itself.

Stiles cursed underneath his breath and turned back around. He searched the trees but didn’t catch any sort of movement. Sighing to himself, he started back toward his jeep.

Then he heard a faint growl. Yelping in surprise, Stiles swung around to see the very same black dog stalking out of the trees. The thing’s teeth were bared and his hackles were raised and suddenly, Stiles wondered if he’d escaped death yesterday only to walk head-first into it today. He stumbled back until he rammed into the hood of his jeep and then threw his hands up, panic making his chest constrict.

“I come bearing steaks!”

Somehow,  _ somehow,  _ that worked. The wolf slowed to a stop and blinked at him, pointy white teeth vanishing. Stiles chuckled nervously and grabbed his backpack, pulling out the package of steaks. They were still a little frozen.

“They’re, um, sirloin. I don’t know if you go for that kind of thing, but—”

The wolf growled. Stiles swallowed hard.

“Right, yeah, less talking and more serving up lunch. Or is it dinner? Linner. That sounded stupid. I’ll stop talking now.”

Intelligent amber eyes blinked at him. Stiles could’ve sworn they looked a little incredulous and he chuckled nervously again, sinking down to a sitting position and stripping the plastic off of the red meat. Grabbing the first one with a grimace, he tossed it forward.

It landed with an unimpressive splat in the leaves. The wolf gazed at him.

“What?” Stiles said, gesturing with his shoe toward it. “You can’t work a knife and fork and you better not even be expecting me to hand feed you. I’ll do a lot of things but I draw the line at the possible loss of fingers.”

The wolf huffed and moved forward, picking up the steak with those scary-looking white teeth. Stiles winced as he all but tore the meat to shreds, glancing at the two remaining steaks in the package. Stiles was relieved it was them, not him.

“So,” he said, tossing the second one forward as the wolf finished off the first. “Is there something I can call you? I mean, I know you’re not a dog and you probably don’t have a name, but I can’t keep calling you ‘the wolf-dog-thing’ in my head. Unless that’s what you’d prefer? I mean, I think it’s a little over the top and you’re not really a wolf-dog-thing—”

The wolf actually  growled  that the last part of Stiles’s sentence. Stiles raised his hands in surrender. 

“Okay, okay, wolf-dog-thing isn’t happening. What, you prefer Fluffy then?”

Fluffy lifted his head and bared his teeth, and Stiles tossed the last steak forward with a small laugh. 

“Calm down. It’s not that bad of a name. And you are, you know. Fluffy.”

He watched Fluffy literally inhale the last steak and actually felt back about not bringing more. Stiles showed the empty package when Fluffy lifted his head again and the wolf looked a little downcast. Stiles sighed.

“I didn’t think to bring more, sorry. But… tomorrow?”

He knew there was no way the wolf actually understood him. But its ears still perked up and Stiles couldn’t help laughing. Somehow, he actually felt like he was talking to another human being.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that. But I don’t have any more steaks. I’ll bring… pork or something. Whatever unhealthy meat my dad thought he could sneak by me, as if I don’t keep track of all the things he buys. He tried to hide an entire tub of ice cream behind the frozen veggies, you know. Smart, but I was expecting it.”

Fluffy moved forward and nosed around the empty package, then bumped against Stiles’s hand. Stiles squeaked in surprise as a giant tongue lapped the remnants of the meat juice (gross) from his fingers and then amber eyes glared upward, as if daring him to say a word.

Stiles didn’t.

He was half-tempted to reach out and card his fingers through the wolf’s fur, though. The temptation was so strong, Stiles nearly did exactly that, but then Fluffy stiffened and growled. Stiles drew back quickly, but the growl didn’t seem to be aimed at him. 

Fluffy turned around and Stiles followed his gaze, searching the forest. He didn’t see anything but before he could say a word, Fluffy was taking off in the other direction. 

“Hey!” Stiles said, leaping to his feet. But the wolf didn’t pay him a second glance, vanishing out of sight. Stiles stared after him for a moment, before blinking back to reality and shaking his head. He leaned down to pick up the empty steak package with a sigh.

Suddenly, the leaves behind him crunched.

Stiles spun around with a yelp, nearly dropping the empty package again. He was even more surprised to see three men standing behind him, led by no other than Kate Argent— Allison’s aunt. Stiles had only caught glimpses of her when the blonde-haired woman picked up Allison from school. They’d never probably talked before but her grin gave him the willies.

“Stiles,” she said, voice light and airy. “It is Stiles, isn’t it? Allison’s friend.”

“T-that me,” Stiles said, words stumbling over each other. He tried not to notice the crossbow held loosely in Kate’s hand, but it was really hard to ignore. Or the fact that the three men are her back were well-armed too. Except they had guns.

Kate smiled.

“I didn’t realize it was hunting season,” Stiles said, trying not to squeak. “You out here for… squirrels?”

“Squirrels,” Kate agreed, and one of the men behind her chuckled. Stiles swallowed hard, not believing that for a second. Kate’s eyes glittered as she glanced at the container held in Stiles’s hand and then made a show of glancing around the clearing. “What are you out here for, Stiles? Most people are too scared to come near the Hale house.”

“I was just… birdwatching,” Stiles said, pulling the empty container closer to his chest. Kate crooked an eyebrow at it and Stiles’ felt his face turn hot. “Birdwatching for uh, vultures.”

“Right,” she said. “See any?”

“You’d be surprised,” Stiles said, holding her gaze. The woman’s smile turned sharp.

“Well, Stiles, I’d be careful out here. There are predators wandering around these woods, you know.”

“Predators?”

“Mountain lions, coyotes. Among other things.”

Stiles swallowed again, nodding. Kate glanced around the clearing one more time before starting by. She patted his head as she passed and Stiles clenched his jaw at that.

He waited until all four were out of sight; heading in a direction that wasn’t quite the one Fluffy had gone in, he noticed with a twinge of relief. Because he’d believe they were hunting squirrels when pigs started to fall from the sky.

But how the hell did any of them know about Fluffy? And why were they hunting him?

Stiles shook his head and turned back to his jeep. He couldn’t help sitting in the driver’s seat for a moment too long, half-hoping he’d see Fluffy come out of the trees before he left. But that was stupid. Kate and her friends might have just made sure Stiles wouldn’t be seeing his wolf ever again.

Huh. His wolf. That was new.

Stiles sighed and started the car. He tossed the empty steak package into the passenger seat and decided that tomorrow, he’d be back. Even if Fluffy was too scared to come see him anymore.

Stiles was going to try. Because he wasn’t going to let hi— Fluffy starve. Stiles wasn’t an asshole like that.

Plus, the couple hours he’d spent out here had been kind of nice. Peaceful, if he’d ever admit that out loud. And it wasn’t like he would’ve been doing anything else except watching TV anyway. 

Stiles didn’t see the amber eyes watching him from the trees as he pulled out. He didn’t see the wolf that changed either, limbs stretching out until it was a man. A man with ribs that could be counted and eyes that glowed red.

Stiles didn’t see any of that. He might’ve rethought his entire plan if he had.

Maybe.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the week passed by fairly quickly. Stiles found he didn’t actually have the time to head back into the preserve between schoolwork, his dad being home whenever Stiles had the chance, and his rising nerves about Kate and her group.

He’d asked Allison about them. But she’d seemed just as confused as him.

“She likes hunting,” Allison said with a shrug when Stiles had discretely tried to mention running into her in the woods. “It’s a family thing.”

“I thought your family supplied weapons to the state?”

“That too. I mean, it’s all kind of one big thing. My dad’s not the hunter he used to be, but my aunt and grandfather are still pretty big on it.” Allison didn’t look too intrigued. “Why?”

Stiles only shook his head. It was deer season, his dad had said when he’d asked. Deer season and small game. 

Stiles didn’t think a wolf counted as small game. 

It was Saturday when he saw his chance again. His dad had a full day shift and once more, Scott was busy with Allison. Stiles stashed his backpack full of all the red meat his dad thought was going to one day make a meal and only hesitated at the door for a split second before stumbling out.

He made one more pitstop. One he felt a little stupid for but decided it was worth the attempt; he wasn’t even sure he’d see Fluffy today. So he might as well take one more step out of his comfort zone.

Thankfully, the Hale house and everything around it was devoid of hunters. Stiles still did an extra loop and parked his jeep where it couldn’t be easily seen, before pulling his backpack over his shoulder and trudging toward the burnt ruins.

“Fluffy!” he called, clapping his hands together. “Here, wolfy, wolfy, wolfy!”

It’d worked last time, so Stiles decided to give it his best shot. But when he waited and realized nothing was happening, Stiles frowned and wandered around the clearing again.

“Fluffy, dude! Get your wolfy ass out here, I have treats!”

Stiles stood still and glanced around. But still, nothing happened. Frowning, he plopped down and pulled his knees into his chest, glaring at the trees.

“I’m not leaving, so you better be just biding your time and not being dead. Because I swear to god if you’re dead—”

A black wolf gazed out of the trees, amber eyes blinking at him. Stiles straightened and a grin cracked across his face without his permission.

“Fluffy!”

The wolf gazed at him for a second before coming out of the trees. He loped across the clearing and shoved his nose into Stiles’s backpack, obviously smelling the meat Stiles had snuck from his house. Stiles snorted and pushed his head away, which got him a small snarl.

“Oh, okay, then,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t give me that or I’m not feeding you.”

Fluffy rumbled out a growl. Shaking his head, Stiles unzipped his backpack and pulled two packages of pork steaks out. He tore them open and offered the first one forward, and yelped a little as Fluffy surged forward and sunk his teeth into the middle, ripping the meat out of his hands.

“Geez, you animal,” Stiles grumbled, wiping his hands off on his sweatshirt. If Fluffy could’ve rolled his eyes, Stiles swore he would have, and the steak was gone in a second, sharp white canines latching onto another.

While the wolf was focused on his meal, Stiles slowly pulled the other things he’d picked up out of his backpack. He’d swung by the pet store to grab a brush and— if Fluffy was good— one of those fancy dog treats that Stiles used to think looked like cookies.

But the second he held up the brush, Fluffy’s amber eyes snapped back up. A snarl built up in his throat and Stiles startled, pulling back a little.

“Woah, down boy, down boy! I’m not going to attack you with this or something.”

Fluffy didn’t seem to care, sharp canines gleaming as he snarled. Stiles frowned and lowered the brush and the teeth vanished a little. The second he raised it back up though, they were back.

Stiles sighed.

“Look,” he said. “You’re dirty, your fur is tangled, and you probably have fleas. Now, I understand you’re not a dog but if some innocent hiker happens to get a glimpse of you, the first thing they’re going to think is ‘wild animal’. Then, my dad will get called and when he sees you, chances are things aren’t going to go well.”

Fluffy’s snarling died a bit. But he still eyed the brush distrustfully.

“I’m just going to work some tangles out of your hair,” Stiles said, reaching over and picking up the dog treat. “You can enjoy those fancy little steaks I brought and then if you’re good, I brought a treat for afterward.”

Instantly, the snarling was back. Stiles dropped the treat in surprise and the second he did, Fluffy stopped. Stiles blinked at him, before glancing back down at the treat. Carefully, he reached for it. And he could’ve sworn amber eyes flashed red.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said, nudging it away. “No fancy dog treat for you. I see how it is.”

Fluffy huffed and turned back to his steaks. Rolling his eyes, Stiles took the brush and nervously reached forward. 

He could feel the wolf tense underneath his fingers, but he didn’t pull away. Stiles carefully combed his fingers through Fluff’s fur and marveled at the feeling of lean muscle corded beneath his touch. Fluffy’s fur seemed a little thicker than Stiles remembered and he didn’t seem quite as bony.

That was oddly satisfying.

“Okay,” Stiles said. “I’m going to use the brush now. Please don’t bite my hand off.”

Fluffy didn’t even glance at him.

Stiles tried to make quick work of the whole thing, but there was nothing quick about it. There were sticks and brambles and leaves caught in Fluffy’s fur and Stiles could’ve sworn he’d been through a tornado or something. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, trying to drag the brush through his fur and failing. He must’ve pulled too hard because Fluffy suddenly looked back up with a sharp growl and Stiles nearly flailed over himself letting go. 

The brush was stuck in Fluffy’s hair.

“I’d take you back to my house and give you a bath, but I don’t think that’d end well,” Stiles said grumpily. He gave the brush a few more tugs and managed to pull it loose, before using his fingers to toy with the tangles. 

He managed to get a few out. Not as many as he’d like, but Fluffy was done with all of the pork steaks Stiles had brought by the time he’d done a half-attempted job. The wolf made his finished meal clear, getting up and shaking himself off. Fur went flying everywhere and Stiles spluttered on it, giving Fluffy a dark look as the wolf seemed to grin.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

He could’ve sworn amber eyes glowed brighter. Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed himself up.

“Fine. Next time I’m bringing scissors or something, so you better be ready.”

Instantly, Fluffy’s ears flattened to his head. Stiles sighed and looked at him. Then, carefully, he reached down to card his hands through the wolf’s fur.

Fluffy went very still but didn’t snap at Stiles, so he considered that a win. Scratching back behind the wolf’s ear, he chuckled softly as the wolf leaned into it. Fluffy seemed to realize himself because he suddenly growled and pulled away, and Stiles sat back on his heels, watching him vanish back into the trees.

“Huh,” Stiles said. Shaking his head, he pushed himself back up and brushed off his hair-covered knees. It didn’t do very much.

Stiles stuffed the empty containers of meat back into his backpack. He was pretty sure if his dad happened to notice them, he’d be in for the weirdest conversation of his life. But Stiles was stealthy. He was never going to get caught.

Get caught taming a wolf. Because that’s what he was doing.

Stiles was so smart.

* * *

On second thought, Stiles was not so smart.

Everything was going fine until he sat down at the table with his dad across from one, two plates in hand. He pushed the one with the most vegetables across the table and grinned at his dad’s face.

The man looked at the broccoli, whole wheat pasta, and severe lack of meat and frowned. 

“What happened to those steaks I bought?”

Stiles froze. His dad’s eyes flicked up and Stiles put on his best smile, shrugging. “I don’t remember seeing any steaks.”

“I remember buying them,” his dad said. “They were on sale. And they were ribeye.”

“I dunno, pops,” Stiles said, shoveling noodles into his mouth. They really didn’t taste that great. “I think you might be getting too old. Is your memory slipping?”

His dad’s expression turned dangerous. Stiles swallowed nervously and chuckled.

“That’s a joke.”

“Stiles, is there something we need to talk about?”

“What, your slipping memory?”

Narrowed eyes turned threatening and Stiles grinned around his noodles, making his dad wince. Thankfully, the man didn’t press further and buried himself in his own food, and the rest of the meal was finished in silence. But right as Stiles scraped his plate clean and went to deposit it in the dishwasher, his dad looked suspicious again.

“Stiles, why are there little black hairs on your jeans?”

Stiles’s heart dropped into his shoes and he looked down, then back up. His mind went at a thousand miles and hour but suddenly, no good excuse was coming up. They didn’t have a dog. Stiles didn’t know anyone with dogs. Other than—

“Scott!” he shouted. “I mean… Scott. I’ve been helping him out at the vet! Sometimes I get to play with the puppies. They’re adorable, pops, and will really add an extra couple of years onto your life. Speaking of which—”

“Don’t say it,” his dad warned. The man studied him for a second before sighing. “Just please tell me you’re not getting yourself into trouble.”

“Me, trouble? I’m hurt you’d ever assume that. Do I look like someone who gets into trouble?”

From his dad’s flat look, Stiles realized he probably didn’t want to hear that answer. He grinned innocently and shoved his stuff into the dishwasher before making a break for his room. Thankfully, his dad didn’t stop him.

Stiles’s desk was covered in all the research he’d done on wolves and he figured he should probably put it all away before his dad came wandering in. But, as Stiles was gathering up papers and trying to put them in a neat stack, one of the pages caught his eye.

It was… well, it wasn’t on wolves. Stiles had tried to figure out the preferred habitat of most wolves and he’d gotten sidetracked. He didn’t even remember looking up the Hale house, but the printed article was definitely about it and the fire. 

Sinking down into his chair, Stiles studied the page.

The fire would be ten years old this summer. Stiles remembered his dad telling him about it, but he didn’t remember many of the details. There were at least three survivors, he though. But the fire had burned fast and hot. Stiles was surprised there was anything left of the Hale house at all.

The kids of Beacon Hills liked to claim that the house was haunted. With how many people who died inside, Stiles used to think so too.

He didn’t anymore.

No, the Hale house was structurally unsafe and a little creepy looking but wasn’t haunted. It was just… old. Lonely. Forgotten.

Stiles set the article back on the stack with a sigh. He stashed them all in his desk, underneath a bunch of school papers in case his dad decided to snoop. Stiles was pretty sure he could brush them off as a sudden interest, but he also wouldn’t put it past his dad to put two and two together.

Even though wolves weren’t supposed to live in California. There were no wolves in California.

Well, there was one.

The black wolf of Beacon Hills.


	3. Chapter 3

“Stiles, man, what are you doing this weekend? Or Friday. This Friday. Tonight Friday.”

Stiles looked up from his book, startled. Scott stood at the table in the library that Stiles had claimed as his own and was watching him with puppyish eyes. Quickly, Stiles closed the book that he was reading and hid it underneath a stack of papers.

Scott’s eyes narrowed a little, but Stiles put on his best-disarming smile. “Probably sleeping, eating, and writing Harris’s paper. Why?”

“Allison got invited to Lydia Martin’s birthday party tonight,” Scott said, all suspicion leaving his eyes. The puppy dog expression was back and Stiles had always thought that look was adorably unfair. “It’s Friday night and the whole school’s going to be there.”

“Including us?”

“Stiles,” Scott said. “It's Lydia Martin’s birthday party. This is your chance to make a move before the school year's over! She and Jackson are on the outs again anyway.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you got that information,” Stiles said, grabbing his stack of books and papers, and stuffing them all into his backpack. “But Scotty, dude, I’ve come to accept my fate. Lydia is going to MIT, I’m taking a year off for my FBI scholarship, and we will probably never cross paths again. It just wasn’t meant to be!”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot different than what you were saying six months ago.”

“I've matured and moved on,” Stiles said with a shrug. “Six months ago I was complaining about the summer heat and getting ready to turn eighteen. Now I’m older and wiser! I even found a grey hair the other day. I’m totally over all that is Lydia Martin, dude.”

Scott still looked confused and he continued to follow Stiles out of the library. “Okay, but you’ll still come to the party, right? It’s the biggest one of the year! Come on, Stiles, I never see you anymore.”

“That’s because you cancel all of our plans last minute to hang out with Allison,” Stiles said, shooting the boy a sideways glare. Scott deflated a little and Stiles sighed, unable to say no to the adorable puppy expression. “Fine, sure, whatever, I’ll show up. But if I get blackout drunk and wake up realizing Jackson has shaved my head again, I’m quitting high school.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t get blackout drunk,” Scott said loyally. Stiles already knew that wouldn’t last; he’d probably see Scott once before he vanished off with Allison. But he appreciated the sentiment anyway.

Patting Scott on the shoulder, Stiles left the school and piled all of his stuff into the jeep. He’d grabbed a few books from the library on wolves too, because one could never do enough research. He wanted to know if he should start bringing more food to the preserve. And if he brought a giant bag of dog food, would Fluffy even go for that?

Stiles was also half tempted to bring a tank of water or something. Maybe he could give Fluffy a bath and then attack the tangles he hadn’t managed to get out last time. Though, Stiles wasn't sure how well that would go either.

Except when he got home, there was another car parked next to his dad’s cruiser in the driveway. One Stiles was pretty sure he recognized but he couldn’t be positive. He parked on the sidewalk and nervously climbed out of his jeep, starting up the driveway.

When he ducked into the house, he was surprised to see his dad in conversation with— with—

Stiles’s heart stopped.

Kate Argent turned around with a charming smile on her face and a sharp glitter in her eyes. Stiles paused in the doorway, backpack hanging half off his shoulder, and just stared at them for a moment.

His dad didn’t look happy. Not exactly like Stiles had done something wrong, but then again, Stiles had probably done something wrong.

The Sheriff just looked frustrated.

“Hey, pops,” Stiles said nervously, stepping further into the house. He blinked over at Kate. “Miss Argent.”

“Kate is fine, sweetie.”

“Kate.” The name tasted sour on his tongue.

“I was just talking to your father about you,” Kate said, glancing over at Stiles’s dad. The man’s face tightened a little and Stiles chuckled.

“Oh yeah? All good things, I hope.”

“They are... things,” the Sheriff said after a moment. Stiles’s heart pounded harder.

“Oh?”

“Stiles, what have you been doing out in the preserve lately?”

And Stiles’s heart stopped.

He looked from Kate to his dad, and then back. Kate’s smile was as sharp as a knife and the look in her eyes was even sharper. Stiles readjusted his grip on his backpack and shrugged. “In the preserve?”

“Yes, son, the preserve. Do you go out there often?”

“Only sometimes.”

“To do?”

“Things,” Stiles said, trying not to glare at Kate. His dad sighed and rubbed at his eyes, and Stiles felt a pang of guilt. Until Kate’s smile sharpened, that is. “Birdwatching, if you will. What, is the preserve off limits now?”

“It’s not off-limits, sweetie,” Kate said with faux sweetness dripping from her voice. “But you have to understand that it’s hunting season and the things you’re doing out there are very dangerous.”

“Come again?”

“Stiles," the Sheriff said. "Are you out there feeding the wild animals?”

For a moment, Stiles didn’t know what to say. His dad couldn’t possibly know about Fluffy, Stiles had no doubts about that. But it was clear that Kate did. And somehow, without being explicit, she’d mention Stiles’s extracurricular activities to his father. 

_Play it safe,_ Stiles decided. He blinked dumbly. “Like the birds?”

Some of Kate’s smile faltered.

“Like the larger animals,” Stiles’s dad said. Stiles glanced over and raised an eyebrow. The man sighed. “Mountain lions, coyotes. Bears.”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, turning his gaze back toward Kate. “We’re all good pals. I bring them nice juicy red steaks and it’s a giant cuddle fest. Did I tell you there’s also a wolf out there named Fluffy? Yeah, he’s a real sweetheart. I even gave him a good brushing the other day.”

Stiles’s dad sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Stiles, there are no wolves in California.”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, never taking his eyes off of Kate’s. “My bad.”

“Look,” the Sheriff said, turning back toward Kate. She was forced to tear her eyes away and Stiles smirked a little at that. “I’m not sure what you came here to accomplish, but I haven’t gotten any reports of mountain lions, coyotes, or bears that are being fed. And I’m not sure why a hiker would come with these complaints to you and not me about my son, but—”

“Complaints?” Stiles asked, cutting him off. Kate’s face tightened.

“Miss Argent’s a seasonal hunter,” his dad said. “She said one of the hikers complained about a teenage boy feeding the wildlife.”

“And that’s me.”

The look in Kate’s eyes was nothing but murderous. She looked at him for a long moment, before shaking her head. “I guess not, sweetie, I didn’t mean to make false assumptions. I’m just being a concerned citizen.”

“Right,” Stiles said. “Next time, come with up some evidence, would you?”

“Stiles,” his dad warned. But Kate only held up a hand.

“No, Sheriff, Stiles here is right. Don’t worry, kid,” she said, starting past. “I’ll make sure I’m more careful next time.”

_Next time._

Stiles glared after her and the woman practically let herself out, Stiles’s dad moving after her with a small sigh. Stiles glared at the empty doorway for a moment longer before turning away, his heart thudding against his chest and his fingers trembling slightly.

Kate knew about Fluffy. Kate knew about Fluffy and she knew Stiles did too.

And she’d come to his house.

Stiles raced up the stairs and dropped his backpack onto his bed before stumbling toward the window. Kate had climbed into her car and Stiles watched as she slowly pulled out of the driveway. Nerves itched underneath his skin and worry built up in his throat as her car disappeared down the street.

For some reason, she was after Fluffy. Maybe it was a hunter trophy thing, maybe it was an Argent thing, Stiles didn’t know. But he was starting to worry his wolf might be in trouble.

He clenched his jaw and tried to dash those worries. Fluffy was smart. He’d known before when Kate was coming and he’d taken off.

Stiles dropped onto his desk chair with a sigh. 

Damn Argent.

He nearly spilled out of his deck chair when his dad knocked on his door and peered in. “Stiles?”

Stiles struggled to righten himself and put on his best smile as his dad stepped into his room. The man’s eyes swept around the bedroom and then landed on Stiles, and a small but exasperated smile tugged at the edges of his lips. 

“Want to talk about what happened down there?”

“You mean the crazy blonde lady who was trying to pin me for a crime I have not committed?”

“I mean your best friend’s girl friend’s aunt who thinks you're up to something. As in, feeding wild animals the raw meat that keeps going missing from our freezer.”

“I told you, dad,” Stiles said, guilt coiling deep in his stomach. “I don’t know what meat you’re talking about. You know I never let you eat red meat.”

His dad’s face didn't betray much, but Stiles could tell the man didn’t quite believe him. But his dad had given up long ago trying to dig in deep when Stiles was being stubborn. That always made him feel a little bad.

“Okay, Stiles,” his dad said quietly. “But… if something were wrong, you'd tell me right?”

“Yeah, course,” Stiles said. The man nodded before vanishing from sight again.

The sour taste was back in Stiles’s mouth.

He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. This was great, just great. He didn’t think he was going to be able to sleep tonight knowing Kate was out there. And Fluffy was out there. And—

Stiles’s pocket buzzed. He pulled it out and blinked at Scott’s name for a moment before remembering it was Friday. It was Lydia Martin’s birthday. And he had made a promise.

“Dammit.”


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles didn’t want to go to a party.

He was sure he’d spend the entire time on edge and he knew for a fact that Jackson would be there. Jackson the jackass. The entire reason Stiles had gotten into this mess in the first place.

Well, it wasn’t really a mess. Stiles didn’t really despise it or Fluffy. But he still knew he’d spend the entire night paranoid.

He’d head to the preserve the minute his dad left for his shift tomorrow, Stiles decided. He could pick up some raw meat at the grocery store to avoid his dad’s suspicions. Maybe he’d even try a bag of dog food. 

Or… maybe he’d wait on that.

The people in Beacon Hills liked to gossip. And the last thing Stiles needed was for word to go around that he was buying dog food for a non-existent dog.

Stiles was supposed to pick up Scott, but then the boy had convinced his mom to lend him the car so he could pick up Allison in ‘style’. Stiles was put off at first until he realized he could be ‘fashionably late’ and spent another two hours pacing his room and trying not to think about Kate Argent or Fluffy instead. Then he was okay with it.

And pace Stiles did.

Much, much later, when he appeared on Lydia Martin’s doorstep, Stiles realized that he’d rather be anywhere else.

There was a hand that grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the party, and Stiles didn’t even recognize who it belonged to. The mystery kid only shoved a red cup into his hands, shouted something Stiles couldn’t catch over the music, and then disappeared off into the crowd. 

Stiles looked down at his cup, around the room, and then moved over and deposited it onto the nearest table. He just needed Scott to see his face so the boy knew he’d shown up. Then he could leave again.

But he didn’t see Scott anywhere. Not for a long time, at least. At some point, someone else shoved a cup into his hand, Stiles was nearly trampled by a girl racing toward the bathroom, and he was pretty sure there was red wine on Lydia’s carpet.

Or blood. But he really hoped it was red wine.

Stiles was pretty sure this was his worst nightmare. He didn’t like parties; it was a social anxiety thing. But it was even worse when he didn’t have anyone else to talk to or hide away from all the madness with.

A couple minutes later, he saw Lydia making out with Jackon over near the pool. A scoff built up into his throat as Scott’s ‘ _ she and Jackson are on the outs again anyway’  _ statement rang through his ears. Because they were never on the outs for long, it seemed.

Eventually, Stiles spotted floppy hair from across the room. He quickly shoved through the crowd and then groaned as he came across Scott and Allison basically plastered together like glue.

“Dude,” he said, waving his hands through the air. “I did not come out tonight to see this!”

Scott looked bashful and pulled back, but Allison only grinned teasingly. “We were starting to worry you wouldn't show up, Stiles.”

“I’m starting to wish I hadn’t.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Scott pouted. “Don’t be like that. You’re here! Have you seen Lydia yet?”

“Ah, yes, with her tongue shoved straight down Jackson’s throat.”

Stiles winced. Even Allison looked apologetic, patting his arm.

“There’s always next time, Stiles.”

“I feel like I should go around wearing a sticky note on my forehead,” Stiles said. “That I am completely over Lydia Martin, okay? I don’t even think about her or those gorgeous green eyes and that strawberry blonde hair anymore. Not at all!”

Scott gave him a dubious look. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“It’s a memory thing, dude.”

“Sure, man.”

“Oh, shut up, Scotty, I only came for you. But apparently I’m already third-wheeling.”

“Did you get a drink yet?”

“So far, I’ve gotten three,” Stiles said, wrinkling his nose. “But I plan on going home sober tonight. I have uh… things to do.”

Scott didn’t look bothered by that but Allison raised an eyebrow. Stiles managed to smother the urge to mention her aunt’s visit, choosing to attempt the ‘discretion route’ instead. One he was pretty sure he’d fail at.

“So, Allison. How’s your aunt doing?”

Failed.

The girl arched a brow and Stiles blushed, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know how exactly to go into the details. Because how did one say, “Hey I think your aunt is hunting my new not-so wolf pet in the woods. Care to call her off?” without coming across as a psycho?

“I’m just curious,” Stiles mumbled. Thankfully, the girl only shrugged.

“She’s been out all night. Hunting, I think.”

Stiles’s blood went cold. “Hunting?”

“That’s that my dad said,” Allison said. “I don’t know, he seemed pretty upset tonight. Didn’t want to talk much.”

“But that wasn’t because of me,” Scott said, looking nervous. “Was it?”

The girl’s face softened and she cupped the boy’s face, pulling him forward for a kiss. “No, Scott, it wasn’t because of you.”

Normally, Stiles would either make a comment about the PDA or how he really didn’t want to see things like that. But at the moment, his heart was thudding too hard against his chest to come up with the words. He blinked a few times and faintly realized Allison had turned back toward him, her features pinched in concern now.

“Stiles?”

“M’ fine,” he said, waving a hand through the air. “But I, uh, haven’t been feeling too good lately. I might head out soon.”

“You gonna be okay driving, man?” Scott asked. Stiles just smiled.

“Yeah, dude, I think I just need some fresh air. It’s the uh, noise and booze, you know?”

“I thought you said you hadn’t had anything to drink?”

Stiles didn’t even have the chance to freeze up about being caught in a lie. Because suddenly, the music  _ was _ too loud. He did feel a little sick. But not because anything that had been in the cups when they’d been pushing into his hand.

He thought Scott said his name again, but Stiles wasn’t listening. He started away and all but stumbled toward the nearest exit. The moment he pulled himself out into the cool night air, some of the panic crashing over him ebbed down a little. But his throat was still tight. Nausea still swept through him in waves.

Stiles leaned against the side of the house and tried to catch deep breaths. But Allison’s words spun over and over again in his mind.

_ Hunting.  _ But Kate had been at his house no longer than four or five hours ago. Could she have been out in the preserve that entire time? And if she had…

No, she hadn’t found Fluffy before. There was no way she could have.

Unless this time had been different than the others?

Someone called his name and Stiles snapped back to reality to realize he’d made it into the backyard. Jackson flipped him off from across the lawn and laughter filled the air. But Stiles didn’t even bother to flip him back off. Rubbing a hand over his face, he ducked back into the party instead and made for the nearest exit.

He could check, right? It was nearing midnight, there was no way Kate or any of the men Stiles had seen her with a week ago could still be out in the preserve. And if he could find Fluffy— if he could track him back down—

Then what?

Stiles decided to deal with that problem when it came up.

He found himself back in his jeep breathing heavily. Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face again before turning the key in the ignition and backing away from the house blaring of lights. 

A few years ago, he might’ve died before leaving Lydia Martin’s party voluntarily. But right now, Stiles only had one thing on his mind.

He was at the preserve in less than ten minutes.

Night had fallen and with it, the moon was a half-crescent and shining bright in the sky. Stiles parked in front of the Hale house and searched the clearing before climbing out. He figured it’d be just his luck that he’d accidentally get shot for wandering around like a dark blur or something.

He also could easily remember the last time he’d been here in the dark. Stiles had been pretty sure the Hale house was haunted by ghosts or something that night.

He still thought it looked a lot more terrifying in the night than it did during the daytime.

Turning on his phone flashlight, Stiles approached the house cautiously. He shone his light over the porch and around in a circle, but didn’t see anything other than the trees. Sighing, Stiles lowered it again, looking for even the smallest hint of movement.

“Uh… Fluffy? Are you out here?”

He instantly felt stupid, words echoing through the nighttime air. There was something about coming to find Fluffy during the day and blindly wandering around at night. But still, he walked the perimeter of the house and then approached the trees.

“Fluffy, it’s me. The guy who always brings you steaks. The one who is really hoping you’re not dead or a hunter’s head trophy right now because that would really suck and—”

Stiles heard a distant gunshot in the air. 

He startled back to hard, he ended up tripping over his own feet and falling hard to the ground. Pain cracked through his entire body and he went shock-still for a moment, watching the trees in terror. But no one came out of the darkness. No bullets cut through the night and for a long second, he didn’t hear another sound.

Then, even further this time, he heard another gunshot. Followed by a long, mournful howl.

Stiles’s heart stopped. 

He was on his feet in a second, taking off into the darkness. Stiles didn’t even stop to think about what a bad idea this was or how he was probably going to get shot and killed. 

He wasn’t sure where exactly he was going. Stiles raced toward the sound of the howl and the gunshot. He could’ve sworn he heard voices too, as he got closer. Shouts and calls echoing through the night, which only made his heart pound harder against his chest.

Then Stiles saw lights. There were a handful of figures silhouetted against the darkness and he skidded to a halt as he saw the guns held loosely in their hands.

Stiles spotted Kate standing at the front of the group. For some reason, he felt like he could recognize her silhouette anywhere.

Before he could take another step, someone was driving him to the ground.

No, not someone. Not someone, Stiles realized, as he started to struggle only to go shock-still as the teeth that closed loosely around his throat. Stiles’s heart stopped and he didn’t move a muscle, and Fluffy didn’t react, teeth just barely grazing against his skin. Instead, the wolf held him down to the ground and Stiles could’ve sworn he felt him tense as the sound of voices moved closer.

“I swear I got the mutt!” A male voice called, echoing through the air. “Or at least grazed him!”

“Well, clearly you didn’t get close enough.”

Stiles clenched his jaw involuntarily at the sound of Kate’s voice. Fluffy slowly removed his teeth from his throat but didn’t get up off of Stiles’s chest. His weight was making it a little hard to breathe and Stiles found himself struggling slightly for air, still trying to stay as still as possible.

“Well, he can’t have gone too far. Say something about his sister again!”

“Shut up,” Kate snapped. “If Derek’s got even half of a human brain left at this point, he would have taken off into the woods with his tail between his legs the moment you took a shot at him. I said to wait for my call for a reason.”

Stiles blinked at that. Fluffy was a… Derek?

Why the hell were hunters naming the same wolf they were hunting?

Derek shifted on his chest and amber eyes blinked into the night as the sound of footsteps passed by what could only be a couple of hundred yards away. Stiles barely dared breathe at this point. He stayed shock-still and hoped desperately that nobody would come across them.

Because if they did, what was stopping Derek from running? And Kate… Kate wouldn’t shoot Stiles, right? That would be murder. Stiles was sure she had to be beyond murder.

Right?

This was illegal hunting, though. And he could easily tell his father…

Then the voices and footsteps faded away. Only then did Stiles relax; even more so when Derek climbed off of him. The wolf blinked intelligent amber eyes down at where Stiles laid and the moment Stiles got his breath back, he was moving forward, embracing the wolf in a hug.

He could’ve sworn Derek went rigid at the embrace.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, face turning into Derek’s fur. “You dumb animal, I thought you were going to die or something! Do you realize Kate is after you? I think she’s trying to bring home a trophy. Even her own family doesn’t seem to realize what a psychopath she is!”

Derek growled at the beginning of his sentence but then went lax again. Stiles drew back and scratched behind the wolf’s ear, grinning a little as Derek leaned into it.

“You might’ve just saved my life too. Dude, you scared the literal hell out of me. I heard the gunshot and I thought— I thought—” 

Suddenly, his fingers touched something wet. 

Stiles cut off and drew sharply back. When he peered at his hand, pulling his phone back out of his pocket to turn the flashlight on once more, he realized his fingers were covered in something red. Something wet and red.

Stiles’s stomach flipped as he realized what it was and he dove sideways, heaving into the dirt.

His hand was covered in blood.

Derek whined softly and Stiles dry heaved a few more times, happier now than ever that he hadn’t drunk or eaten anything at the party. By the time he was finally able to pull himself together again, Derek had a nose behind his ear and the wolf was whining loudly.

“Shush, shush,” Stiles said. He turned his light toward the wolf and realized there was a definite area of his fur that was plastered to skin. Stiles’s stomach churned again but he tried to smother any nausea, brushing nervous fingers over the spot.

Derek’s whines turned to sharp growls. Stiles quickly retracted his hand.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Okay, so you’re injured.”

Amber eyes blinked at him. Stiles’s stomach flipped as he searched the forest once more, realizing he couldn’t hear voices anymore. But what if they came across his jeep? What if Kate realized he was out here too?

But Stiles… he couldn’t leave Derek out here. Not injured with a bunch of hunters on his tail.

“Okay,” Stiles said again. “We’re gonna head back to my jeep. And then, if there are no psycho hunters hanging around, I’m going to take you back to my house. We’re going give you a bath and if the wound isn’t too bad… then you can stick around for the night. Or something.”

Derek tilted his head. Stiles offered his best smile.

“Does that sound okay, boy?”

He thought Derek growled a little at the last part of his sentence. But when he pushed himself up and started in the direction of his jeep, glancing back after a few seconds, Derek was following with a slight limp. Stiles swallowed hard and kept moving.

Hopefully, his dad was still on his shift. Hopefully, there would be no hunters at his car. And hopefully, Derek’s wound wasn’t too bad.

Stiles didn’t know what he’d do if Derek died on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are out to get Kate and I just want to say, I'm all here for it. And of course, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! I'm super excited to get further into this story.


	5. Chapter 5

There were no hunters at his car and Stiles didn’t get shot while driving away from the preserve. He thought that shouldn’t be something a teenage boy should be excited about, but it was the little things sometimes.

And Stiles would take what he could get.

Getting Derek into his jeep had been a difficult task in itself. The wolf kept trying to climb into the front seat and every time Stiles would push him back again, he could’ve sworn he'd get the ultimate stink eye. But there was no way Stiles was letting a wolf claim shotgun. Not in his precious jeep.

He nearly melted in relief when he saw his dad’s cruiser wasn’t in the driveway.

The next hardest task was getting Derek inside without the neighbors seeing. Stiles knew for a fact that Gertrude next door liked to ‘keep an eye on the neighborhood’ and ‘report back to his dad’ whenever she could. Like she was her own personal neighborhood watch or something.

And the last thing he needed was his dad getting a call that his son was seen leading a giant black wolf into his own house.

“Okay,” Stiles said, turning around to face the wolf. “We’re going to do this as fast as possible, got it? No taking off down the street and I swear to god, if you pee on ay of my furniture, I’m delivering you right back to the preserve. My dad will kill me if there are pee spots around the house. He'll also probably assume some... things. And I will die before he assumes that.”

Derek huffed slightly. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I'm just saying, don’t test me. My dad will have a fit if he realizes I’ve been trying to adopt the local Beacon Hills wolf and I’ll probably get grounded for life. Or worse.”

Derek’s huffs ebbed off. Stiles grinned. 

“Good boy.”

The growls came back. 

Stiles figured if he moved fast enough and kept Derek to the side of him, they wouldn’t be open to any prying eyes. Except, the moment he opened the back of his car, Derek jumped right out and proceeded to race toward the door. Stiles blinked at him for a moment before quickly giving chase.

“Dammit, Derek, stick with the plan!”

The wolf gave him a red-eyed look and pawed at the door. Sighing, Stiles shoved it open and watched as Derek loped inside.

The wolf… well, he went straight for the stairs. Stiles wondered if maybe he did have the most intelligent wild animal in the entire world currently in his house.

But then he got upstairs and found Derek curled up in his bed.

“Oh, hell no,” Stiles said, crossing the room and trying to push Derek out. “Oh my god, dude, you’re getting blood all over my comforter! Bath! We agreed on a bath!”

Derek growled. Stiles glared at him. 

“Get out of my bed.”

The wolf didn’t move. Stiles crossed his arms.

“I swear to god, I will call animal control. Get out of my bed now, you furry asshole.”

Derek glared at him for a long moment. Then the wolf pushed himself up and jumped out of the bed. Stiles smirked, pointing toward the door. 

“Bathroom. Go.”

He got a dark amber-eyed glare again. Then, tail between his legs and still slightly limping, the wolf moved out of the room. Stiles huffed to himself, satisfied, and then looked distastefully at his bed. He stripped off the comforter before ducking after Derek, surprised to actually see him actually sitting dejectedly in the bathroom near the shower.

It was then that Stiles realized his difficult situation.

See, he had never given a wolf a bath before. Stiles wasn’t sure what would get him bitten and what wouldn’t. He didn’t think Derek would bite him, but the wolf had also had his teeth at Stiles’s throat not two hours ago.

“Okay,” Stiles said, turning on the faucet. “You’re going to get in the bath and I’m going to clean you and your wound. Understand?”

Derek stayed sitting statue-still. Stiles glared.

“Animal control,  _ Fluffy.” _

The wolf snarled. But instead of going rabid and tearing Stiles’s throat out or something, he hopped into the tub and Stiles grinned. Yeah, he was totally the wolf whisperer.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ve never even really washed a dog before so…”

Derek was surprisingly not like a dog.

Stiles thought he should really expect that at this point. Nothing the wolf did was animal-like— other than the growling, snarling, and eating raw meat, that is— and he didn’t even try to bite Stiles once during the entire bath. Stiles thought either he was very talented or Derek was somehow house-trained, because he managed to scrub the wolf entirely clean.

All the way up until his injury, that is. 

Stiles dabbed the washcloth nervously around the spot of blood. He was no animal expert; he didn’t even know the basics of cleaning a wound or taking care of it if things were bad. Stiles tried to get a good look but every time he did, Derek would snap at him.

It was then that Stiles maybe he’d done enough.

“Okay,” he finally said, sitting back on his heels the fifth time Derek tried to take his hand off. “I’m not going to mess with that anymore, okay? It looks like the bullet just grazed you anyway. But I swear to god, if I wake up tomorrow and you’re half dead or something, we’re going to the, uh, vet. Probably.”

Derek gave him a flat look and hopped back out of the tub, shaking water everywhere. Stiles squawked and flailed away, back cracking against the wall, and he could’ve sworn Derek looked amused at that.

He kind of hated this wolf sometimes.

It was then that he heard the unmistakable sound of the garage door opening. Stiles panicked.

“Oh shit, oh my god, go get in my room!”

He was pretty sure if his dad stumbled across him taking care of a wolf, he’d get therapy for life or something. And he didn’t even know what the man would do with Derek. What was the law around having a wolf for a pet again? Stiles was pretty sure it was illegal or something

Which was the last thing he needed. To get put behind bars, that is.

Stiles ushered Derek into his room and then eyed the closet. But Derek growled as if he could read his mind and Stiles huffed, pointing the wolf toward his bed instead.

“You stay off of that. If you hear my dad coming, get under the bed and hide. Understand? Or we’re both getting in trouble here.”

His only answer was Derek's ears flattening back. Stiles supposed he would have to take it.

He made sure to close his door tightly before stumbling downstairs. His dad was just coming through the door when Stiles flailed into the kitchen and the man gave him a raised eyebrow followed by a sigh.

“Do I want to know?”

“Welcome home, pops!”

“Stiles.”

“You don’t want to know,” Stiles said. Then he quickly backtracked. “I mean, there’s nothing to know! Nothing at all. I just, uh, came back from Lydia’s party and planned on making… dinner?”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning.”

“Yes, but I’m hungry.”

His dad raised an eyebrow. Stiles winced.

“... Err, Drunk hungry?”

“You’re all wet.”

“I took a shower.”

“In your clothes?”

“Uh,” Stiles said intelligently, glancing down at himself and his soaked jeans. Then he looked sharply back up. “Wait, no, I didn’t take a shower. But there was a pool. At the party. And someone splashed me.”

Stiles didn’t even have to meet his dad’s eyes to know the man didn’t believe him. But the Sheriff only sighed and set his keys and gun on the counter, patting Stiles on the shoulder as he passed by.

“Well, I’m exhausted, son, so I’m going to go to sleep. Try not to burn the house down while you make food.”

“You’ve got it, father-mine!”

Stiles watched his dad move all the way up the stairs and craned his neck as the man walked past his door. Straight past his door. He didn’t even hesitate and Stiles let out a sigh, sinking into himself.

That was one less thing to worry about, at least. For now, that is.

Stiles waited another few moments before scrounging around through the fridge and pulled out what appeared to be leftover chicken. Throwing it onto a plate, he crept back upstairs and eyed his dad’s door before ducking into his own room and shutting the door tight, making sure to click the lock too.

Derek was in his bed. The fluffy bastard.

“Okay,” Stiles said, frowning. “Not fricking okay, dude. I said no bed!”

Amber eyes blinked tiredly at him. Stiles sighed and moved forward, setting the plate down at the foot of the bed. But Derek didn’t even move to get up and nose at it, huffed into Stiles's blankets instead. Stiles sighed.

“I’m not hand feeding you. Are you hungry or not?”

The wolf turned away. And Stiles couldn’t help but hear the small whine as he moved.

All feelings of irritation melted away. He moved closer and carefully sank down on the edge of his bed. Cautiously, he reached out and carded his hands through Derek’s fur. The wolf whined again and buried his snout into Stiles’s pillow.

“Fine,” Stiles said softly. “You can stay up here tonight. But tomorrow, we’re going to figure something else out.”

The wolf didn’t look back at him. Stiles continued to rub gentle fingers through his fur for a little while longer before cautiously slipping into bed too. He kept a good few inches between them, in case Derek decided to give him a good clawing for getting to close.

He didn’t actually mean to fall asleep. Yeah, he was tired and a little sore from his adventure in the woods. But Stiles didn’t mean to fall asleep. Not with a wolf in his bed and his father down the hall, at least.

But he did. And when he woke up the next morning, there was sunlight streaming through his window, his door was still locked, and the plate of chicken still sat uneaten at the foot of his bed. Oh, and there was a man in his bed.

Wait—


	6. Chapter 6

_ Wait— _

Stiles started so hard, he probably would have rolled right off the edge of the bed and brained himself on the floor, except the man’s arm was wrapped around his chest. The man. A naked man.

In his bed.

There should not be a naked man in his bed.

Stiles managed to wrench himself free and stumbled across the room, back ramming against the door. The man was awake in a second, shoving himself up and snarling. His eyes turned bright red and Stiles yelped, dropping to the floor and covering his face with his arms.

“Oh my god, please, please don’t kill me.”

Silence was his answer. When Stiles dared peek up through his fingers, the man was watching him silently. Stiles swallowed hard, doing his best to stay focused on the man’s face. Just his face. Nothing else.

Nothing lower.

“Um, sir, what have you done to my wolf? And why are you in my bed?”

“Stiles.”

Stiles swallowed hard, nodding. Slowly, he pushed himself up and the man continued to look at him with what could only be described as a confusion. Then the guy dropped his gaze, looking down at himself and shifting a little, only to hiss. Stiles’s heart nearly stopped as he saw the slow healing cut on the man’s shoulder and the blood that stained his skin.

Then his heart dropped.

No way in hell.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, his voice shaking. “Derek?”

Grey-green eyes snapped back up. They were red anymore; not like the wolf’s eyes. These were the colors of the forest. Stiles weakly reached for his doorknob but then he heard his dad moving around down the hall and froze.

No. His dad could not see this. His dad could  _ not  _ see any of this.

“Stiles,” Derek said again. And none of this should even be possible. Stiles had gone to sleep with a wounded wolf curled up next to him, not a naked man. A naked gorgeous man, if Stiles was being honest. That face was not fair. And those abs—

Stiles’s mind short-circuited. Once more, he focused on keeping his eyes way above the waistline.

“Please tell me I’m dreaming,” he said quietly. “Because this can’t be real.”

Derek just looked at him. Stiles checked the lock on his door before taking a timid step forward. The man tensed then, and Stiles froze too. 

“Do you even know English, dude?”

Derek almost looked annoyed. Stiles started to open his mouth again but then his doorknob jiggle and there was a sharp knock from the other side.

“Stiles? Are you awake? Why is the door locked?”

Stiles’s heart leaped into his throat. He whirled around, stumbling toward the door, but not before shooting Derek a quick glare. The man’s teeth were bared and it actually looked like he was growling. Which was also totally unfair.

How the hell was Stiles supposed to deal with this?

He didn’t unlock the door. Instead, he pressed his face right next to the crack. “Uh, yeah dad, I’m up!”

“Why is the door locked?”

“... I’m naked.”

Silence reigned for a moment. Then Stiles heard a sigh. “Okay, right. Well, I’m heading to work. Just… don’t get into any trouble today, alright? And let me know if you go anywhere.”

“Right-o, pops! Will do!”

Stiles listened until his dad’s footsteps faded away and then he whirled around, glaring at the man that currently stood in front of his bed. The naked man. The man who had been a literal wolf less than twelve hours ago.

Cursing, Stiles turned toward his dresser and scrounged around through it. Eventually, he found a pair of sweats that he hoped would fit and the ugliest blue and orange t-shirt that probably wouldn’t. But Stiles would celebrate the little victories in that.

With his face still turned away, he threw them at Derek’s chest. The man made a startled noise but Stiles was pretty sure he caught them. Glaring at the wall, Stiles waved a hand through the air.

“I’m not looking back at you until you pull those on.”

For a moment, silence reigned. Then Stiles heard a grunt and the rustle of clothing and by the time he did look back, Derek was dressed in way too tight clothes with a frown on his face.

“Okay, dude. Now talk.”

Derek didn’t.

“Please say something. Anything.”

“Stiles.”

“Other than that!”

Derek frowned harder. Stiles groaned and moved over to his window, peeking outside to make sure his dad was gone. Then he grabbed Derek’s arm and unlocked his door, pulling the man out of his room. Derek went without fighting and Stiles took him all the way downstairs, opening the front door and pushing the man out.

Derek looked confused.

“I’m sorry, dude,” Stiles said. “But I don’t know what the hell you are. Clearly this is… well, I was hoping it was a hallucination, but I’m severely doubting that right now. Please, just go somewhere else? Because there are going to be those creepy hunters showing up at my door otherwise and I am so ill prepared for that.”

Derek didn’t move. Stiles stared at him for a long moment and then swore, slamming the door closed.

He waited for a long moment, trying to figure out how long it would take Derek to move down his driveway. Maybe he’d go all wolfy again and dissippear back off into the preserve. Maybe he’d be smart and run somewhere far away where hunters weren’t trying to kill him.

But when Stiles peeked through the eyehole, Derek was still standing there. Stiles dropped his forehead against the door, groaning.

His neighbors could not see a strange man literally just chilling outside of Stiles's house. And his dad could not come home to this.

Not if Stiles wanted to avoid a grounding that lasted the rest of his life.

Quickly, he opened the door back up and glared at Derek. With as much force as he could, he pointed down the driveway.

“Go.”

Derek didn’t move.

“Go, fluffy! Run, boy, run!”

The man growled. Stiles nearly shied back.

Instead, he frowned even harder. But then he noticed the blinds across the street shifting and a cold hand of terror gripped his heart. Grabbing Derek’s arm, he yanked the man back inside and slammed the door shut once more. Derek looked more than a little pleased with himself and Stiles didn’t even want to begin addressing  _ that.  _

3Letting go of the man’s arm, Stiles turned and stalked toward the kitchen.

He was hungry, he was confused, and there was a strange man in his house. Stiles didn’t have the patience for this.

He debated calling Scott. The boy was his best friend, after all, surely there was something he could do to help. Even if it was just to give Stiles advice. But then he realized there was no way Scott was going to believe him and even if he did, the first person he’d tell was Allison.

And Kate, the woman hunting Derek, was her  _ aunt. _

Maybe that’s what their family did. Forget selling weapons. Maybe they went around hunting whatever the hell Derek was. 

Or maybe that was just a Kate thing. Maybe she was crazy.

Maybe Stiles was crazy.

He rummaged around through the fridge and when he turned back around, he nearly had a heart attack. Derek stood right behind him, eyes narrowed, and Stiles swore, ducking around him.

“Stop it, Creeperwolf.”

Stiles set to making a sandwich and Derek watching him the entire time. The moment Stiles finished and started to take a bite, it was literally like a dog waiting for scraps. Stiles hesitated. Then groaned, dropping his sandwich back into the plate and shoving it over.

“Eat that. I’ll get you a glass of milk.”

The man did. Stiles poured a glass of milk, deposited it next to his plate, and then raced upstairs to grab his laptop. Derek was still distracted when he came back down, thankfully, and Stiles settled on the couch, deciding if he was going to be keeping this man around right now, he was going to figure out what exactly he was.

The results weren’t great.

Some were utter bullshit, others were theories, or Twilight fanfiction. But then Stiles stumbled across a site that gave the exact description of some of the things he’d seen, written by a name that Stiles didn’t recognize and his heart gradually started to beat harder as he read it through.

Stiles read it once. Then he read it again. Then he switched tabs and typed the Hale fire back into the Google search engine, clicking the links he’d been on not one week ago.

The Hale family. Involving Talia, Laura, Peter. All dead. Cora, other relatives, an unborn child. All gone.

Derek Hale. Deceased too.

Stiles’s heart stopped. From the doorway of the kitchen, he heard a soft whine. He looked sharply up, clenching his jaw.

“That’s you, isn’t it? Derek Hale.”

Derek blinked at him. But then the man nodded and it was some of the first actual back and forth communication Stiles had gotten since Fluffy turned human. He swallowed hard.

“And you’re a werewolf.”

Another nod.

“The fire wasn’t an accident, was it?”

Derek shook his head.

“Does it have anything to do with Kate and her band of hunters?”

One nod. Small and sharp.

“... Could they do anything? Could they hurt my dad?” Because Stiles couldn’t help but remember how Kate had come to his house. Kate had come  _ into  _ his house when his dad was all alone. If she found out Stiles was harboring Derek, could she do worse?

Once more, he got a small nod. Stiles’s heart broke.

“Derek, you need to leave.”

The man looked shattered. It was then that Stiles knew Derek understood everything that he said. Everything Stiles had said from day one— telling the wolf about his day, his life. Everything that had gone on from there, everything he was planning for his future. His fears and his uncertainties. Stiles had told him everything.

He thought he was confiding in a friend. A comfort. Someone who would never share his secrets. But this was a man. A man with a past and… and a dead family.

Stiles already had one dead family member. He couldn’t have any more.

Derek didn’t say a word. Didn’t try to argue or fight him. He just moved around the couch and to the door, hesitating for a moment in front of it. Stiles swallowed hard, feeling like he was losing something. More than a wolf. More than some stray dog.

But he just clenched his jaw and looked away. “Leave town, Derek. Go somewhere safe. Please.”

The door opened. Stiles didn’t turn his gaze back until it closed again. Softly. And, after waiting a long moment, when he pushed himself up and padded across the room, gazing through the peephole once more, Derek was gone. There was no man, no wolf.

Nothing but an empty street.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles spent most of the rest of the weekend inside. 

He played video games, texted Scott, and did his best not to research the Hale family or werewolves. On both Saturday night and Sunday night, he woke up in a cold sweat, still hearing the shouts of the hunters, the howl of Derek in the preserve, and Derek’s soft, broken voice saying his name.

On Sunday, he wondered if he really was losing his mind. And then he was attacked by the cold, terrifying memories of his mother in a hospital bed, seeing hallucinations of her own as Stiles watched on with no ability to help.

But he’d touched Fluffy. He’d taken care of Derek. Derek was real.

And then Stiles had abandoned him.

Come Monday morning, Stiles’s dad caught him by the arm before he could stumble off to school. The man pulled him away from the door and searched his face carefully, looking uncharacteristically worried. Stiles’s stomach clenched.

“Uh, dad? Is something up?”

“I just… Stiles, you would tell me if there was anything wrong, right? If something was going on inside or outside of school.”

Stiles blinked a few times, then forced himself to nod. “Uh, yeah, definitely, pops! But there’s nothing wrong. Nothing’s wrong at all.”

“But you would tell me. If there was.”

“Yeah, dad,” Stiles said, softer this time. He reached out, patting his dad’s arm. “I’d tell you everything.”

The man nodded, though Stiles could tell still he wasn't fully convinced. Still, the Sheriff only searched his face one more time before letting go. Stiles hated himself as he grabbed his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder and stumbling out the door. 

He also hated himself for pausing on the doorstep and searching the empty street. It wasn’t like he was looking for anything in particular— definitely not Derek or wolf Derek— but his heart still sunk when he saw nothing.

Of course, there was nothing. Stiles shouldn’t have expected anything more.

He needed to stop thinking about Derek.

Scott was waiting for him with Allison when Stiles arrived at school. The boy grinned and clapped him on the shoulder as Stiles approached, and he forced a smile back.

“Stiles, dude, we missed you at the party! You vanished out of nowhere.”

“I wasn’t feeling too great,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. Allison stood at Scott’s side with her arms crossed over her chest and Stiles raised an eyebrow. The girl looked downright pissed off. And a little sad. “Uh, is everything alright, Ally?”

“It’s just my aunt,” Allison said, waving a hand through the air. Stiles straightened.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. She got into it with my dad last night and left. I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“Wait, they had a fight?”

Scott gave him a strange look and draped an arm across Allison’s shoulders, squeezing her hand gently. But Allison just shrugged. “It’s new. I mean, they fight sometimes, you know? Last night was just worse than usual.”

“Do you know what it was all about?”

Now Allison was looking at him strangely too. But Stiles’s heart thudded against his chest and he felt his throat closing. For a moment, he stared at nothing and Scott said his name nervously. Stiles came snapping back to reality then.

He attempted to laugh it off, waving a hand through the air, and made for the school as fast as he could when the bell rang. The other two followed much slower.

Stiles’s mind was spinning again.

Just because something was going on in the Argent household didn’t mean it had anything to do with Derek, he tried to tell himself. Kate could be pissed off that Derek had gotten away from her and her psychotic hunters for all Stiles knew. Or maybe Chris Argent wasn’t such a hunter enthusiast. Or maybe he didn’t even know about his sister and her crazy antics.

Stiles tried to shake those thoughts off. But it didn’t work very well.

He was on the edge of his seat throughout the rest of the day. When Scott tried to talk to him before each class, Stiles just nodded and chewed on the end of his pencil, lost in thought. When the boy basically dragged him to the lunchroom and sat next to him instead of Allison, a concerned expression on his face, Stiles was still a hundred miles away. 

He didn’t pay attention to Harris. And skipping out on the detention he was given for that.

It wasn’t until lacrosse practice, after Jackson had nearly taken his head off with a stray ball and Stiles had just stood there in a daze, that Finstock grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off the field, and Stiles finally snapped back to reality.

“What the hell is wrong with your head today, Stilinski?”

Stiles blinked a few times. Finstock narrowed his eyes, leaning down to study Stiles’s face.

“You’re not on drugs, are you?”

“What, coach? No!”

“Good! Then get your head out of your ass and back in the game!”

The game, right. School, lacrosse, the rest of the school year. Stiles’s problem wasn’t Derek anymore. Werewolves weren’t something he was supposed to be worrying about. Because werewolves weren’t even supposed to exist. Stiles just had to snap out of his thoughts about Derek, Kate, and the hunters, and come back down to earth.

But then his gaze drifted to the preserve and Stiles knew he had to do one last thing. Just so he could sleep at night.

“Actually, coach, I’m not feeling too great.”

“What? You’re sick?”

“Undoubtedly.”

Finstock gave him a long look before muttering something unintelligible underneath his breath. Then he glanced back at the field where the other players were waiting for instructions. Groaning, the man turned back toward Stiles.

“Get out of here, Stilinski, I don’t need you getting my team sick before the next game. But you better be back one-hundred percent by tomorrow afternoon, you hear me?”

“Oh yeah, coach. Definitely!”

Finstock muttered something else that Stiles didn’t catch. But he was too busy gathering up his things and taking off of the field, pointedly avoiding Scott’s confused stare from the bench. He raced toward his jeep and threw his things into the back, only realizing he’d been followed when Scott’s sudden appearance had him stumbling back.

“Oh my god, Scott, dude! Personal space!”

“Where are you going?”

“Absolutely nowhere important,” Stiles said, pulling himself into the driver’s seat. But then Scott got in the way of him closing the door and gave him a puppyish look that Stiles couldn’t ignore. 

“Stiles, you’re starting to worry me.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Scotty boy. I promise you.”

“You’re not actually on drugs, are you?”

Stiles paused, staring at the boy. Then he barked a laugh, which only made Scott look even more confused. But damn, Stiles wished he was just on drugs. During freshman year, Stiles might have been spilling his guts right now. But looking at Scott, with round eyes and a gentle face, Stiles realized there was no way he was messing this up for the boy.

He wasn’t messing up normal life for his best friend. Stiles wasn’t dragging Scott into this— whatever the hell it was. Werewolves were Stiles’s problem and Stiles’s problem only right now.

Hopefully, not for much longer though. Hopefully, Derek had left Beacon Hills and everything was about to go back to normal again. But Stiles just had to make sure.

“I’m okay,” Stiles said. “Dude, really. I’m okay.”

Scott looked at him for another long moment before slowly nodding and stepping back. Stiles just grinned, pulling his door closed and starting the jeep. And when he glanced back out the window, Scott was jogging back toward the field.

Stiles swallowed hard and wetted his lips. Hopefully, after this, he would be okay. Everything would be okay. He just had to check. He had to make sure Derek was gone.

Stiles pulled out of the school parking lot and headed for the preserve.

-

When he parked in front of the Hale house, the clearing was empty. Stiles pulled himself out slowly, glancing around before moving nervously toward the house. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to call Derek. What if the man came out of the trees? What if he was a wolf once more?

Was Stiles just being cruel?

Still, he didn’t think he could relax until he knew. Either Derek was still here, or Derek had left. Stiles kept telling himself he hoped desperately that Derek had left.

But that might be a little bit of a lie.

He turned in a slow circle, searching the trees.

“Derek? Derek, are you out there?”

Silence was his answer. But Stiles hadn’t forgotten how long it used to take Fluffy— Derek— to come out. He swallowed hard and waited for a moment before nervously wandering toward the trees.

“Derek, it’s Stiles.”

As if he wouldn’t already know that. Stiles instantly felt stupid, running a hand through his hair. Maybe Derek had left. Maybe he was in another state right now, or at least very far away from Beacon Hills. That would be the smart thing to do.

To get away from Kate and her band of crazies.

“Good,” Stiles said softly, even though his chest felt hollow. Because he was glad, wasn’t he? It was a win-win. Derek was gone and safe. Stiles and his dad were safe. It was a win-win.

Slowly, he turned back around and wandered toward his jeep. But he hesitated for a final moment, glancing back toward the Hale house. The place where it had all started. If he hadn’t listened to Jackson the jackass that one night and come here…

Well, Stiles probably wouldn’t have ever known about Fluffy or Derek.

Fluffy Derek? Derek the fluffy werewolf.

Stiles sighed, turning around and wandering toward it. He moved up the rickety stairs slowly, glancing around. Knowing the story behind it all… well, that was even worse.

_ “The fire wasn’t an accident, was it?” _

Stiles clenched his jaw hard and glanced around. There was broken glass on the floor. The stairs were falling apart. But then something else caught Stiles’s eye and he moved closer, brows furrowing.

He traced his finger over one of the doorways and when he pulled back, it was covered in blood. Fresh blood.

Stiles’s heart dropped into his shoes.

“Derek?”

Suddenly, there was an arm wrapping around his neck. Stiles yelped, scrabbling at it, but then something soft was pressed over his nose. He tried to scream, inhaled sharply, and then his senses flooded with alarms of  _ wrong. _

The world turned blurry. There was a hand in his hair, combing through it gently. Stiles inhaled again and blinked hard, clawing at the arm even weaker. He started to slump to the floor, a terrified whine leaving his lungs. And suddenly, there were warm breaths against his ear.

“It’s alright, sweetie, you’re alright. Everything is gonna be fine.

And Stiles’s last thought was  _ Kate. _


	8. Chapter 8

When Stiles woke up, his head was pounding.

He groaned, mouth feeling like it had been stuffed full of cotton. His tongue was heavy, it felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his brain, and Stiles was pretty sure something was wrong.

Something was very wrong. Why was something very wrong?

When he finally blinked back into the world of actual consciousness, Stiles realized he couldn’t feel his arms. Panic crashed over him and he jerked hard; which resulted in the clatter of chains above his head. Stiles realized then that he was all but hanging from the ceiling, shoulders tight and aching. At some point, he was pretty sure his arms had fallen asleep. He could barely even feel his fingers at this point.

A little more silent panicking and he also realized there was a woman sitting behind a table to the side, just watching him. Stiles’s throat went dry as Kate smiled.

“Morning, Stiles.”

_Morning?_

Stiles licked his lips experimentally and swallowed hard before glaring at her. But when Kate pushed herself up, he instantly flinched back, the chains clattering once more before he attempted to steel himself again. 

“You do realize kidnapping the Sheriff’s kid is literally the stupidest decision you could have ever made, right?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Kate said, pursing her lips. “This isn’t a kidnapping.”

Stiles blinked at her. Then he jerked on the chains holding his arms above his head and snarled as they rattled. “Oh really? It’s not? Care to explain what the hell all of this is, then? Because my dad is going to put you behind bars for the rest of your life, you psycho.”

“This isn’t a kidnapping,” Kate said again, moving to stand in front of him. She tilted her head, searching his face, and then sighed. “It’s a bargaining chip, sweetie. I hate to drag you into this, I really do, but Derek’s being… difficult. So clearly, he needs some more incentive.”

“Fuck you. Derek’s gone.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. Stiles swallowed hard.

“He’s gone. Left town. I made sure of it. So you and your little band of hunter crazies can keep chasing your tails around in circles, but you’re never going to find or hurt him again. Ever.”

Kate looked at him for a long moment. Then she laughed, reaching out to pat his cheek. Stiles snapped at her hand and she drew back with a slightly darker expression; it wasn’t much, but Stiles would take what he could get. 

“So where were we?” Stiles sneered. “Oh yeah. You and your eventual jail time.”

“Derek didn’t go anywhere,” Kate said, moving around the table and sinking back down into the chair behind it. “And he’s going to come here. Because we have his human and I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

“His hum— oh my god. You are crazy.”

“I should have figured it out from the beginning, Stiles,” Kate said. “The impromptu visits to the preserve, the way Derek was finally gaining some muscle again. It would have been a shame if he would’ve starved himself to death, but then again, that would have made everything so much easier, wouldn’t it?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“He lives with a lot of guilt, you know,” Kate continued. Stile wasn’t even sure if she was talking to him on purpose, now, or just filling the air with noise. “Guess that’s what happens when you lose your entire family in one night, but that’s what happens in accidental fires. Do you know how long he’s lived as a wolf, Stiles?”

Stiles just glared at her. Kate sighed.

“To be honest, I’m doing him a favor. Putting the poor mutt out of his misery.”

“The Hale house wasn’t an accident.”

“Do you recognize this place?”

Stiles blinked at her before glancing around. He hadn’t paid the room he’d woken up in much attention; but maybe it was more of a basement than a room. Kate pursed her lips, glancing around with a look of thinly veiled disgust. 

“These were tunnels they tried to escape out of. Right through the basement. Like rats.”

“You burned Derek’s house down.”

“Not alone, sweetie.”

Stiles’s stomach clenched and he felt sick. The look Derek had worn; the first time Stiles had mentioned the fire and his family. The man had looked so _broken._ And here Kate was, not even looking fazed. In fact, she looked a little intrigued, watching him from behind the table.

“But you developed quite the taste for the mutt, didn’t you, Stiles?”

“Shut up.”

“I am curious,” Kate said, pushing herself up again. Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at it, an unreadable expression crossing her face before she looked back up at him. “Did you know what he was from the beginning, or do you often make a habit of feeding the wild animals?”

This time, Stiles didn’t say a word. Kate chuckled.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Once you help us, you can go home.”

“You really think that’s smart?”

“I think so,” Kate said. “Do you really think anyone is going to believe you when you go crying wolf, Stiles? Werewolves aren’t a thing, sweetie. They don’t exist. And once Derek’s gone, that’s another wolf off the map. Less and less evidence for anyone to ever see.”

Stiles felt sick. Kate sighed.

“But we’re going to have to get Derek’s attention and this isn’t doing much.” 

“So sorry to disappoint. Why don’t you just let me go and we can try this again another time?”

“I do like you, Stiles. So I really hate to see you hurt.”

Stiles froze, fingers twitching above his head. He’d finally gotten some feeling back in them, not like that would do much good. Kate pursed her lips, picking something up off the table, and actually pouted as she stepped closer. Stiles attempted to shy back, but there was nowhere else to go.

“But really, sweetie. We need Derek’s attention.”

“He’s not here.”

“He’s here,” Kate said. “He just needs a little incentive.”

And that’s exactly what Stiles was, he realized. Incentive. This is exactly what he’d been trying to avoid; him getting hurt. His dad getting hurt. But then Stiles had to be an idiot and go wandering off into the wood again. 

“So,” Kate said. “Can you scream nice and pretty for us, kiddo?”

Whatever was in her hands sparked. Stiles’s breaths stalled and he turned his eyes upward, determined to do the exactly opposite of that.

He’d made empty promises before.

-

Kate was saying something, but Stiles hadn’t heard anything other than a sharp buzzing in his ears for what felt like ages now. For all he knew, it could have only been a couple of hours, but Stiles had never been _tortured_ before, okay? The worst pain he’d ever felt was when Jackson had slammed into him so hard during a lacrosse game when he was sixteen, that he’d dislocated his shoulder.

Stiles could laugh at that memory now. If he wasn’t feeling like he’d swallowed a knife, that is.

“Come on, Stiles,” Kate said, gentle fingers combing through his hair before gripping it tightly and tipping his head back. “Call for your wolf.”

Stiles just closed his eyes. God, he wanted his dad.

He wanted his dad.

He whimpered and tried to pull away, but Kate just tightened her grip. He’d decided that he hated the smell of her perfume; he _hated_ the smell of flowers and fruit as she leaned closer.

“Come on, Stiles.”

“Fuck off.”

Kate sighed and let him go, backing away again. Stiles heard the crackle of electricity and immediately flinched again. He was pretty sure he couldn’t, _couldn’t,_ offer Kate any more screams. Stiles kept his eyes closed, as if that would somehow keep her from getting any closer. Keep the pain from happening all over again.

It was morning, some part of his panicked brain realized. Or maybe it was the afternoon by now. His dad would be worried about him, wouldn’t he? Stiles was missing school. There was no way no one wouldn’t recognize his disappearance.

Was his dad freaking out? Was Scott?

Stiles wondered faintly if Kate would really let him go. If she didn’t get Derek— what use was Stiles then? She’d promised she would let him go. But Stiles knew there was no way he could trust a word that came out of her mouth.

When the electricity touched his skin again, Stiles actually managed a scream. That surprised him a little bit. But it didn’t even sound like his own voice anymore.

His mind drifted to Derek the moment he could think properly again. Stiles kept his eyes closed and wondered how far the man had gotten. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t going to come save Stiles like his own little superhero or something.

Stiles had turned him out. And Derek had done what he’d asked.

He’d left.

“He’s not coming,” Stiles mumbled, and he wasn’t sure if that was to Kate or himself. But the words came anyway. “Derek’s not coming.”

Kate had answered him before. But this time she didn’t.

When Stiles opened his eyes, she was just standing there. Arms folded over her chest, a look of frustration on her face. Despite everything, he managed a mocking grin.

“And you know that.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Stiles. I really am.”

Stiles swallowed hard, grin melting. As if any of this was his fault.

Though, maybe it was. He should’ve known better than to go chasing after the starving black wolf of Beacon Hills. He should have known better from the very beginning.

Suddenly, there was a door opening across the room. Stiles jolted, chains clanging, and his heart leaped for a second. But Kate didn’t even look bothered as she turned around and his heart immediately plunged as he recognized one of her hunter crazies.

Anxiety crept up his throat then. Stiles wasn’t alone with Kate here. He didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

“Anything?”

The man shook his head. Kate looked a little pissed.

“Dammit. He can’t be gone.”

“He could have run.”

Kate muttered something and turned back around. Stiles clenched his jaw, terror unfurling in his chest, and she tilted her head. “Guess we underestimated your importance to the wolf, kid.”

He didn’t say a word. She sighed.

“You still want to go home?”

Stiles just stared. Because this was another cruel joke, wasn’t it? This was another joke. He hadn’t believed her for a second when she’d said she’d let him go.

The man behind her tensed. “We can’t let him go.”

“You really think the Sheriff is going to _not_ tear this town apart looking for his son if something happens to him?”

“What if he says something?”

Kate gave the man a flat look. “About what, werewolves? Hunters?”

Stiles stayed stock-still. It was like he wasn’t even there. Didn’t even matter. But then Kate gave him a sweeping sideways glance again before turning away. Stiles’s heart plunged then.

“Fine, do what you want. But make it look like an accident.”

_No._

The man turned toward him with a sick grin and Stiles tried to leap forward, chains clanging. “Kate, wait, Kate, no! You said I could go home.”

Stiles hated himself a little for begging. Because he’d known, he’d _known,_ but he was terrified now. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be left alone with this man.

He wanted his dad.

“Kate, _please.”_

Kate hesitated for a moment, glancing back at him. She sighed and glanced at the man and for a moment, Stiles was hopeful again. But then she just shook her head.

“I really do like you, Stiles. But you don’t run with wolves, kiddo. Not without getting hurt.”

For a moment, all Stiles could feel was icy cold panic. It clogged in his throat and made him see stars. He watched Kate leave thinking he should have known better. He should have known better from the start.

The door opened. Closed again. Stiles could barely even think straight.

He was going to die. His dad was going to have no idea what happened to him and he was going to die. Stiles flinched back as the man stepped forward and all he could think was this was going to kill his dad too. He was never going to know what exactly had happened.

The chains holding him up were loosened and Stiles all but dropped to the floor. He still managed to scramble back as if that would do something. As if he had anywhere to go.

He was going to die.

The man stepped closer, Stiles curled into himself, and that was his last thought. He was going to die.

Then a howl cut through the air.

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a quick one-shot but then it grew arms, legs, and took on a life of it's own. So, now it's going on here. Because multi-chapter things and I don't get along unless people are yelling at me to finish them. So feel free to yell at me to add a new chapter!
> 
> Of course, I love to hear what you guys think. I've never written a wolf-Derek au before, so this should be a trip. Or something. I hope you're all doing well!
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr?
> 
> [the dumpster](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)


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